


Quickly Contemplating

by lionessvalenti



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-02 12:52:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/369169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen's the only one who can get the alien tech off John Hart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quickly Contemplating

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Lefaym for beta reading!

Trying to focus on the task in front of her, Gwen shoved her hands in her jacket pockets. She turned her head to Ianto, who was walking about two paces behind her and Jack, and asked, "How much further?"

"Up on the left, then around the corner, about sixty meters," Ianto replied, his eyes glued to the monitor in his hand. He paused and added, "I'd wager it's in Club Remedy."

Gwen looked to Jack. "Why would someone take alien tech into a club?"

"Depends on the tech," Jack replied. "It could be something to get free drinks, easy sex, or to blow up the club."

"Let's hope it's the first one, then," Gwen said. "I'd like this to be simple."

Jack shook his head. "Not as easy as you'd think. Five minutes with this guy and suddenly we're each down thirty quid. But at least then the culprit has alcohol poisoning and you can get them after they pass out."

Gwen snorted. "Well, you boys take the lead when we get inside. I'm heading straight to the loo."

"You should have gone before we left the Hub," Ianto said. "And I was right, in the club."

"Oh, god, look at the queue," Gwen moaned, scanning the line that went almost around the corner. She repressed the urge to press a hand to her crotch.

"Queues?" Jack raised an eyebrow and walked up to the impressively large doorman. "Torchwood," he said in his most authoritative voice, going to walk past the doorman, but found a hand flat on his chest, pushing him back onto the sidewalk.

"Back of the queue," the doorman said.

"We're Torchwood," Jack said, his voice edging onto irritated.

The doorman's face remained impassive. "I don't care if you're the flaming queen."

"He does have a point there," Ianto muttered, and Jack shot him a glare.

Gwen stepped forward and smiled. "Hi, look, we'll be in and out. There could be something possibly dangerous in there, and all we'd like to do is eliminate it without any trouble to your patrons." _And I really have to pee!_ she added silently.

The doorman looked Gwen up and down. "You can go in. Your mates will have to wait at the back of the queue."

Gwen looked over her shoulder at Jack and Ianto. "That work for you? I'll be quick and I'll keep in touch."

Jack's face was stony. "If you need us-–"

"I know," she said, taking the monitor from Ianto and putting it in her pocket. She turned and started walking toward the door.

"And keep your comm open while you're in the loo," Jack called.

Gwen flipped him the V over her shoulder and she could hear Jack's laugher, even above the thumping bass.

Inside, Gwen's first priority was to herself. She scanned the main room, looking across the dance floor, and spotted a neon sign pointing upstairs for the toilets.

"Oh, thank god," she muttered, working her way across the room. It was the strangest thing, how the closer you got to a toilet, the harder it was to hold it.

Getting across the dance floor was annoyingly difficult. It seemed the twenty-something's of Cardiff weren't very responsive to 'excuse me' when they were half drunk and grinding on each other.

Gwen considered pulling out her gun and threatening everyone who came between her the bathroom. Before she could talk herself out of it, she saw the source of the alien tech they had been reading.

With a blonde on arm and a large margarita in his other hand, John Hart swayed on the floor, rubbing his crotch against the poor girl's leg. Though she didn't seem to mind.

Gwen looked longingly at the neon sign, then back to John. Odds were, she could go to the bathroom, and he would still be there. But there was always the chance he would go off somewhere, maybe with the girl, maybe to use whatever alien tech he had to blow up the club, or possibly just pass out drunk.

She reached up and tapped her comm. "Jack?" she said, louder than she would normally, though the comms were designed to drown out outside noise, even something as loud as club music.

There was no response. She tried again, but it was definitely dead air. Gwen reached into her pocket and pulled out the monitor. Closer to the tech there were a few more details, including the size (small, would fit in the palm of her hand), shape (square and flat), and location (inside jacket pocket, on the right), but the most prevalent one was that it was running interference on the comm system.

Perfect.

She shoved the monitor back in her pocket and started over to John. She reached into the back of her jeans for her gun, keeping it low and out of the view of the club goers. She sidled up next to John and slid her hand inside his jacket, pressing the barrel of the gun into his kidney.

"Let's go."

He looked at her, only mildly surprised or maybe not surprised at all, and he grinned. "There you are! Where's the rest of the team?"

"Doesn't matter," Gwen replied, digging the gun harder into his back. "Tell your friend goodnight. We're going outside."

John turned to the blonde. "Ex-girlfriend. Rage issues. You understand." He kissed her sloppily before she could reply, then held his hands out to Gwen. "Take me away."

Gwen rolled her eyes and jerked her head toward the door. She took one step, then stopped, twisting her legs around each other. She felt like she was a cough or a sneeze away from losing it right there. "Oh, shit."

John grinned and Gwen wanted to slap it off his face, but she was reluctant to move.

"Time to take a leak, is it?" John asked.

Gwen glared at him. "Outside. Jack and Ianto are waiting."

"Sounds like fun."

It took all of Gwen's willpower not to roll her eyes, and she tried to concentrate that resolve to not wet herself. She took another step and this time she did wedge her free hand between her legs. She glanced over her shoulder at the neon sign again. It was so tempting to just bolt up those stairs and hope she would make it.

This was, without a doubt, the dumbest move Gwen had ever made. Going up to John before she peed was up there with fucking Owen in Big Mistakes.

"There's a pisser down here," John said.

"What?" Gwen put her full attention back to John, berating herself for not doing so the entire time.

John nodded toward the bar and looked back to Gwen. "Back there, an employee loo." He looked almost serious. It was almost like he cared. "I'll show you."

Well, this was some kind of trap. It was a bathroom trap.

"Fine," Gwen said, too desperate to say no. One hand placed firmly between her legs, and the other held the gun against John's back, Gwen followed John toward a door. He pushed it open and led her outside into an alley behind the club.

"Are you kidding me?" she asked. "This isn't-–"

"I lied about the loo. There's plenty of privacy out here," John replied. "You wanted me outside, didn't you? Or should we get Jack and Ianto?"

This time, Gwen did roll her eyes. "Shut up," she said, taking a step closer to John. "Just give me--" Her words were cut short when John easily knocked the gun out of her hand and shoved her against the wall, holding her wrists above her head, and wedging his knee between her legs.

"Give you what?" John asked. He leaned his head close to Gwen's face, like he might kiss her. 

She turned her head away. "Not falling for that again."

"You think I'd really use the same trick twice?" He kissed her shoulder through her jacket. "Have you ever come when you've had to go?"

"What –- oh, that's gross. Get off me!" Gwen struggled against him, but her eyes drifted down to John's jacket. She didn't know what was in his pocket that was causing all this trouble, but she was going to get it. Even if it meant... well, how would Jack get it? That answer was blatantly obvious and quite literally staring her in the face. Maybe they could both get what they wanted.

John laughed. "I'll get you off." He jerked his knee upward, the seam of Gwen's jeans, directly against her clit.

Gwen moaned, laying her head against the brick. She eyed John's smug, satisfied face and scowled. "I guess no one would ever know."

"That's the spirit!" John grinned and licked the exposed skin of her neck. He squeezed her wrists. "You gonna hit me if I let go? I've felt that before."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Gwen asked, almost giving him her best smirk. She wasn't very good at smirks, so she tilted her head forward and ground her hips against his knee.

John's eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah, gorgeous." He let go of her wrists to tuck his hands into her hair, behind her ears, holding her head in place against the brick wall. His mouth ghosted over hers and she could smell the tequila on his breath.

Hands free, Gwen slid her hands inside John's coat, her palms against his ribcage. She tried to feel the inside lining of his coat with the backs of her fingers, feeling for the pocket. She prayed it wasn't hidden within the lining itself.

John's knee jerked violently upward and Gwen felt herself lose a bit of wee, perhaps not enough to soak through her denims, but enough to refocus her.

"Someone's not paying attention," John said in a sing-song voice. His hands moved down her neck and chest with surprisingly tenderness before landing on her breasts. Typical.

"I'm concentrating on not pissing myself," Gwen said, the lie easy since it was also a truth.

"Oh, do," John mumbled. "Please do."

Grinding against his knee, Gwen leaned forward and brushed her lips against John's neck. She licked his earlobe to distract him as she fingered her way into the inside pocket of his jacket. She could feel the small square against her index finger.

Gwen gasped as John squeezed a hand in between his knee and Gwen's crotch. "What are you doing?"

"Getting a better seat. Are you always this much of a prude? What are you waiting for? A written invitation? Engraved in stone? If old Jack asked you to piss on him, you'd do it without question. I've seen how you look at him with those sexy, brown eyes."

"Don't talk to me about Jack," Gwen replied, clenching herself down on John's hand in some hope of hurting him, but found that -- _fuck_ \-- it felt good.

John laughed. "Why not? Having a hard time not picturing him in a compromising position?" He pressed against her pubic bone with the heel of his hand.

She wasn't until he mentioned it. In fact, he was right. She wouldn't have a problem doing anything Jack asked, pissing on him included.

Strangely, that helped Gwen when she grabbed John at the back of the neck and shoved her mouth to his. John groaned hungrily, hoisting Gwen up and pushing her hard against the brick.

"Ow!" Gwen yelped, or tried to, the sound muffled, and more of a reaction than being in actual pain. She wrapped her legs around his waist as his hand slid from between her legs, around to her backside.

Gwen dug her fingernails into the back of John's neck as her she wriggled her fingers back into his pocket. She pulled out the square and squeezed it into her palm.

"Come on, do it," John mumbled against her mouth as he thrust his hips forward, pressing his crotch to hers.

"Oh!" Gwen tilted her head back as she finally came and let go. It was humiliating, but the relief was overwhelming as wetness spread through her jeans, and she could hear it dripping onto the ground below.

"That's right, baby," John mumbled, rubbing harder against her. "Feels good, yeah?"

She whimpered, squeezing him tighter between her legs until the stream tapered off into nothing. She never knew peeing could take the breath out of her, but Gwen panted into John's neck.

"I -- I need down," Gwen said, and to her surprise, John let her down carefully. She noted the giant wet patch on the front of his jeans.

He caught her looking and grinned, much more the John she knew. "I like your handiwork, but I need to get going." He started for a fire ladder on the side of the building. "Oh, and just to warn you, when the Xanthanaran's come here looking for their chip, they're going to come straight for you now that it's programmed to your body's energy."

Gwen gaped at him. "What?"

"I swiped it from them, and when I couldn't fence it... had to dump it." John smirked and winked. "You'll do fine. You've got the team!" He started climbing up the ladder.

"You knew I was -- and you let me -- you would have just _given_ it to me?"

John let go of the ladder with one hand and swung out to face her. "Well, yeah, but it was a hell of a lot more fun this way, wasn't it?"

"You better get out of here before I find my gun," Gwen said, taking a step forward, her jeans feeling stiff, uncomfortable, and rapidly getting colder. "On a second thought, stay."

She could hear John laughing as he climbed the rest of the way up and disappeared onto the roof of the next building.

"Shit! Fucking arsehole!" Gwen slapped her hand against the wall.

"Gwen?"

She spun around to see Jack and Ianto standing at the mouth of the alley.

"What happened to you? We heard you shouting," Jack said, his eyes on her soaked denims, the wet streaks going all the way down to the cuffs.

Gwen thought about how to explain, but it was too much. It was too long and too embarrassing of a story. She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. We have work to do."


End file.
